"Highbinders," said the policeman. "I thought it was time they was breakin’ out again. Oh, murther, but there’ll be killin’ over this before the day’s at an end. Hullo! what’s this?" An old Chinaman came forward at this moment, wringing his hands and chattering like a monkey. His face was stricken with signs of heart-breaking woe. "He says it was his daughter," said the other policeman. "Yes--all same daughtah--my gell--you sabby?" wailed the old man. "She go down store one minute all ’long boy--all same my boy--you sabby? One man come, say ’you come ’long me.’ She heap cly. Boy heap cly. Two men come ’long--catch gell--so. One man hit boy ’long side head. Tlee, fo’ men thlow cloth over gell’s head--she no cly no mo’. Tlee, fo’, fi’ men take gell. Boy lun home. All same I sabby no mo’. Gell all steal." And the old man wrung his hands with mournful cries. "H-m! the old girl-stealing trick of the highbinders," said the first policeman, whom I took to be a sergeant of the force. "Does he suspect anybody?" I asked. The old man caught the idea. "Maybe--I no know," he cried. "One day two men come. All same they say heap like my gell. I say no got gell. One man say all same give me t’ousand dolla’. I say I no want t’ousand dolla’. Othe’ man he say twel’ hund’ dolla’. I say all same I no want twel’ hund’ dolla’. Two men say bad word, all same Clistian, you sabby?" "What men were they?" asked the sergeant. "You sabby Suey Sing men?" said the old man. "Two men all same Suey Sing." "The Suey Sing Tong--I’ll bet he’s lying," said the sergeant. "It’s more like the Sare Bo Tong. Well, go along with him and get the boy’s story. Maybe the kid can’t lie so fast. I’ll go down to the hall and send up a squad. There’s like to be trouble over this." "Do you think there will be a fight?" I asked. "There was a lot of the Hop Sings about as we came up," said the officer, "and I reckon the old man belongs to ’em. The others was mostly Sare Bos. There’s bad blood between ’em, anyhow, and I look for some killing out of it. Are you walking down?" "No, I’ve a bit of business here." And I turned back to the door that had barred the way to the rooms of Big Sam. As I reached the threshold I drew back before the advance of a party of Chinese, who filed out of the shop one by one to the number of a dozen or more. Their stolid faces showed no interest in me or anything else, and half of them turned to the south, half to the north, and they followed the uncompanionable Chinese habit of straggling in single file. A tall stout Chinaman, dressed in baggy trousers and a padded Chinese coat of fine blue cloth, stood just inside the door and watched them narrowly as they went out. As the last coolie passed I stepped forward and into the doorway. The tall Chinaman looked at me blandly.